A/N: I made up my own list of prompts, and the first was "red."
Beware of angst. No slash intended. Please read and review.
Red
Todd isn't surprised to learn that Neil's favorite color is red. It's the color of love, passion, and romance; it's bold and shameless, not afraid to pop out. Neil is red – so much so that after learning this trivial fact, the color reminds Todd of his roommate every time he sees it.
Todd always liked red – though he never dared pick it as his favorite. It was tempting, but too brave for him. He had always chosen to stay safe with yellow. He had thought perhaps gray fit him better, but yellow gave him a secret comfort, a preview to the happiness he never felt. Somewhere inside him, though, he knew he had the potential for it.
A week before the play's opening night, Todd decides to buy Neil a red scarf he sees in town, along with a book of Shakespeare's plays. It's the most money he's spent since starting at Welton, and he's glad he didn't waste any beforehand on needless things. The woman in the store folds the red scarf neatly and places it in a box, complete with tissue paper, wrapping it for an extra two dollars. Todd feels himself glowing like yellow, as he walks out of the store with the gift tucked under his arm.
When Charlie wakes him up to tell him what Neil did, Todd retreats to the snow outside, hoping if he breathes in the air, it'll freeze up the impending explosion. He vomits into the white ground but expects to see blood – Neil's favorite color suddenly darkened.
He tries to go to the house. He wants to see Neil; he wants to see the blood on the floor. He wants to take back Puck's crown of red berries. The police cars are still parked outside, all along the street, and the sirens are silently flashing red and blue. As he begins to push against the strange bodies, tears come again. He just wants to see the red.
He just wants to see the red.
They break, like an eroded dam, and Todd stumbles into the office. Neil's gone, and there's a plastic sheet thrown over the rug. He kneels down, his hand against the desk, eyes quivering and staring down at the cover. He takes it in his other hand gently because he doesn't know how to be rough – and he peels it up.
It's a diluted stain. Mrs. Perry must've already tried to wash it out. It's a watered-down red, like pink eyes, and Todd wants to feel angry but he's numb instead. This is where his best friend died – and they've already begun to wash him out of reality. They don't understand. Damn it – they never understood.
Todd can't help himself. He sinks like an angel to that stain. He digs his fingers into the ruined carpet fibers, tainted to the root, and his skin loses the tears in the damp spot – water and blood mixed to make a painful scent. They wanted to put out Neil's fire. And they won. They threw water on his blood and tried to cover it up with something white – as if the snow needs to follow Todd in here. The red is faded – and all Todd can do is cry in more dilution. He can still smell Neil. He can still smell Neil, and he doesn't care if it's wrong.